The Olympians: The Fall of Kin

Stormfront

"Everybody on the fucking floor!" A man entered Hell's Haven National Bank, wearing baggy cargo pants and a black hoodie. Only, he wasn't holding a weapon.

In another time, the people wouldn't have collapsed to the floor when an unarmed man came in yelling such a thing. They'd probably have laughed in his face or run away.

But in the year 2380, four-hundred years after a hundred thousand clones of the Greek Gods were released into the world...suffice it to say that things had changed a lot.

The man aimed his hand at the security guard who pulled out his plasma pistol and fired a shot of neon colored energy that burned through the man like lava from a volcano itself, splattering blood, and ash on the counter of which the tellers hid behind.

That was all the warning the people needed as they cried out in fear.

The place was filled with men, women, and children alike, all of them crying, horrified that they might be next.

He rushed to the counter, aiming his hand at the tellers, purple energy licking the air around his palm. He slapped a bag on the counter. "Put all the fucking money in it. And none of that dye pack shit. I'm gonna' check it before I leave. I stain these clothes, then you die, bitch."

"Okay! Okay!" The woman, tears streaming down her face like a roaring river, screwed up in trepidation. She shoved the money in quickly, sobbing, wailing like a banshee.

"Hurry up. I need ta' get outta' here before one of those damned Enforcers show up!"

Finally, she put all the money in the bag.

He grabbed it, started toward the door, but came to a stop.

The entire building was vibrating rapidly. Like the tell-tale signs that a ferocious storm was fast approaching. "No! Dammit! I-I can't-My damned kid needs me!" The man cried in frustration, clutching his head at the teller's sluggish job. He wanted to kill her...

But he couldn't, as an image of his sweet little daughter flashed into his head. No matter what, he couldn't allow himself to be corrupted in her eyes. He only killed in Self-defense. That was all.

I have to get out of here before one of them arrives.

With that thought in mind, Daryll 'Neon' Jones blasted the glass doors of the bank off their hinges and sent them clattering into the streets. He sprinted out onto the sidewalk where hundreds of Havenites ran away, terrified of the "Villain" that the media had labelled him.

What a load of shit.

Just propaganda meant to make the public fear his people.

Godkin, a menace to society.

That was just one of the many headliners he had seen on the news ever since he was a child. But it had been happening a lot longer than he'd been alive. Four hundred years...

He ran down the street just as the cops had pulled up to block him, jamming metallic poles into the ground at five-foot intervals, causing a five-foot tall barrier of energy to appear. He turned around, noting that the civilians had all but cleared the area, and ran in the other direction, but, of course, more officers set up an energy barricade, leveling their plasma pistols at him. They looked reluctant, wary of dealing with a vicious Godkin.

"Get your hands behind your head and get on the ground, slowly!" One of them finally yelled, the ground still mysteriously vibrating.

I ran because I didn't want to kill them...